The Nature of Time
by ErisedWillow
Summary: Hermione must travel back into time. If she doesn't, the fabric of time will tear. But what must she do there? How is she supposed to know when she doesn't even know how far 'thirteen' turns is? Takes place after DH, probably AU.
1. The Creak

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters/situations you recognize. They belong to their rightful owners, I'm only borrowing them. I am making _no_ money off of this, and never will.

* * *

Hermione Granger sat next to Ronald Weasley in the Great Hall, eyeing the whole scene. Voldemort had just been killed, the jubilee and fanfare finished. Every person in the Great Hall was mourning someone. It was quite depressing, and in ten years' time, they'll look back on it and realise just how much it was. Already, the sobs had stopped; no one had the energy or strength to make a noise. But, there were a few people, like Ron and Hermione, which sat on benches with loved ones, relishing in the fact they were still alive. They might have lost someone, or many, but they must be thankful for the ones that were left. The Weasleys were sad, yes. But, while the pain had yet to pass, they had each other, telling funny stories about Fred or ironic ones about Remus and Tonks.

Everyone was concerned about Harry, naturally. Hermione and Ron, not knowing the entire story, let Harry tell it for them. He left out nothing, not even Snape's memories. They were crucial. McGonagall led him to the Hospital Wing, Pomfrey followed, not letting anyone else in. He was still being evaluated when Ron spoke.

"I suppose they're afraid that something broke him inside," He told Hermione knowingly.

Hermione, her normal, talkative-self quieted, didn't reply. Of course she knew, but to hear it all told so bluntly... By a boy that should still be a boy. A person who had just finished the fight of his life... And having to relive it all so soon…

"'Mione? Are you okay?"

"Yes. It's just a bit of a shock."

"I wonder if we're gonna have to bring Snape up," he muttered to himself after a pause.

"Snape… Merlin, Ronald! He's just lying there. We should go get him," she said, standing up. Noticing that Ron wasn't following, she turned around. "Are you coming?"

"I'm not touching him. He's all… dead and cold and stiff." He shrugged his shoulders.

Hermione sighed. He really could be an idiot sometimes. Seeing (and hearing) this, he blushed. "Fine…"

"Good. We don't even have to touch him. We are magical, after all."

"_Immobulus_," Hermione casted at the Whomping Willow, the fastest way to get to The Shrieking Shack. The tree calmed and froze, allowing them passage.

"I don't see why we have to do this. He was a bloody git."

"Because, Ron…" she trailed. She really didn't know why she felt the need to bring him to the castle. His body would only make people more fretful… and he was an immense rotter. "Regardless of what we think of him, he was a friend of Dumbledore's. He did us a great deed. This is the only way we can repay him."

_Creak._

"What was that?" Ron asked, getting his "I-hate-spiders" face on. There were still Death Eaters out there, they weren't entirely gone yet, and they were Potter's friends. If they were caught, they would be killed.

"I don't know," she whispered. Scared or not, she was still on her mission, and determined to finish it. "Let's just keep quiet. No more talking."

They quickly reached the interior of the Shack, doing their best to keep their footsteps light and fast. What they found surprised them.

There, on the floor was Snape's body. _Alive_ body. He had moved himself up against the wall, sitting. There was still so much blood leaking out of him. It had slowed, but not stopped. His eyes were closed, but his head swiveled just a bit. His breathing was ragged, and doing that must have been painful.

"Sir," she said. She ran to his side. Trying to stop some of the bleeding, she picked a wound and put pressure on it with her hands.

"Finally," he croaked out, quietly.

"Sir," she started again. He knew he was dying, she was sure of it. And that's what led her to what she said next. "We'll bring your body to the Great Hall."

He said nothing, but it seemed to Hermione that he sighed. She could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose, with a headache threatening to start.

"Dumbledore's office," he finally said. He breathing slowed, still rough.

"What-about-it?" she asked quickly.

"Thirteen turns."

"What's he talking about, 'Mione?"

"But, sir? Thirteen turns? Nobody's ever gone back that far."

"Do it." His eyes opened and stared into hers. His breathing got slower… and finally it stopped. She felt for a pulse, in any place she could think of, but could find none.

"Let's get him up to the castle." She stood and wiped her bloody hands on her jeans. "_Wingardium Leviosa._"

Everybody stared as Hermione, Ron, and the recently deceased Severus Snape walked (and floated) into the Hall. Hermione carried him to an empty spot. _Even in death, he would want to be alone, _she thought. They all turned their heads away from the former headmaster.

Ron moved towards his family, Hermione beside him. Once there, he sat down beside a sleeping George, but Hermione moved on.

"'Mione? Where are you going?"

"To his office."

"Since when do you care?"

"Ronald, he was my professor, and that was his dying wish. And besides, he called it Dumbledore's office, not his. That has to mean something, right?"

"Go ahead."

Hermione spun around, stalked out of the Hall, and straight to the Hospital Wing.

_Harry will want to know._

* * *

A.N - I'm American, but I thought I'd try the British spellings. If I get anything wrong (British spellings, word usage, and the likes) please feel free to let me know. All reviews are welcome (even the criticizing ones). It's been a while since I've read the books, so there's probably going to be some things wrong. Again, feel free to tell me.

Also, a thank you to my lovely best friend for beta-ing and letting me bounce ideas off her. She's pretty awesome.

By the way, this is my first fanfic. Just thought you ought to know


	2. Harry Understands

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters/situations you recognize. They go to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I am making _no_ money off this, and never will.

* * *

"Who's there? Oh, Miss Granger. Please leave us," Madame Pomfrey said gently.

Hermione straightened herself. "No. Harry is one of my best friends. I have a right to be here. May I speak with him?" she asked.

Madam Pomfrey opened her mouth to refuse, but McGonagall cut her off. "Yes, Miss Granger. _We'll_ leave you."

"Thank you," she said to Minerva, and then turned to Pomfrey. "Both of you." Both of the elderly women nodded and stepped away.

"Thank you, 'Mione. I was about to die… Not really," Harry paused, holding his breath. "Sorry," he finished, finally letting his lungs breathe.

"Harry… Ron and I went to get Snape. I couldn't just leave him there," she said, sitting next to him on the bed. "Nagini's venom hadn't killed him. He told me to use a Time-Turner in Dumbledore's office. Or the Time-Turner is in his office. I'm not sure," she spit out.

"What are you planning on doing?"

"What would you do?"

After a short break, he answered her. "It was his dying wish. Do it. Why do you think he would ask that of you?"

"That's the thing, Harry. I don't know! He told me to use thirteen turns! What can be so important that I would have to do this? Do you know how far back that is?"

"Not really?"

"Exactly! That's years! I've never heard of someone going that far."

"You have to do it."

"What?"

"You have to do it. Do you have your bag?"

"I always have my bag," she answered, but it was more of a question.

"Good. Does it have everything you'll need?"

"Harry?!"

"Hermione?!"

"Yes," she answered. "It always does."

"Good. I'll sneak out. We'll both look for the Time-Turner," Harry said, standing up. He stuck his arm out for his best friend to take. "We should also get Ron."

"I'm not sure how keen his is on this plan."

"You need to do it."

"Harry?"

"Hermione, I'm sorry. That's just how I feel. It was his last wish. We've said it loads of times now. You must."

"I suppose your right."

"Ron'll probably kill you first."

"At least I wouldn't have to go, then." Harry laughed at his best friend. "I'm not sure I'm even familiar with that culture," she continued.

"How different can it be?"

"How different can it be, Harry? I don't even know when _it_ is!"

"You're right. That was a stupid question."

"I'm going to have to do it, aren't I?"

"You'll feel guilty if you don't. You'll always wonder 'what if?'"

The two friends started walking towards the doors. "Mr Potter, I'm afraid we aren't done with you, yet," Madame Pomfrey said, trying to stop them from leaving.

"Yes, I know. But if there is something wrong with me, there's not really much we can do about it now. There's other people that need your help."

She stared him down, but decided he was right. She rushed off towards the Great Hall to take care of her other patients.

"Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"What is the password to Dumble- Headmaster Snape's office."

"I do not know, Miss Granger. But perhaps Potter will be able to help you."

"Thank you," she said as the two walked out of the door, following in Pomfrey's footsteps. Hermione thought – what she does best – about why she had to go. And suddenly, she figured it out. Her footsteps quickened into a run, dragging Harry along behind her.

"Hey, ma-" Ron stopped and his face dropped. Both Harry and Hermione wore faces that screamed "No informalities!" He continued, realising what was happening.

"You aren't going to go through with it, are you?!" he practically screamed at Hermione.

"I must," she answered simply.

"No! I'm not an idiot, Hermione! I know what 'thirteen turns' is! Time-Turners don't move forward!"

"No, they don't."

"Then why are you going?"

Hermione paused. "Ronald, he obviously knew I was supposed to go back. If I don't, then I'll rip the fabric of time."

"Oh," Harry whispered. "So basically, if you don't go, everything falls to shit and the Earth explodes?"

"Basically," she answered. "I thought you had it all figured out before I did." The girl smiled.

"So you have to?" Ron asked solemnly, his demeanour suddenly changing, Hermione's along with it.

"Yes."

"The good-byes might take a while," the red-head said. He looked at the ground, at Hermione's feet, then back up to her face, hopeful.

"No. It might be best just to leave," Hermione countered.

"Would you like to help us look?" Harry asked, stopping Ron from bursting out again.

"For what?" Ron asked.

"The Time-Turner."

The trio found their way to the Headmaster's office.

"Liquorice Snaps," Harry tried.

"Red Vines," Ron said. Both Harry and Hermione turned to him.

"What? Charlie went to America once. He brought them back. I thought maybe Dumbledore knew of them. He liked candy, from what you told us," he directed towards Harry.

"You're forgetting something," Harry started. "This isn't Dumbledore's… This is Snape's."

They stood in a circle, their heads facing the ground. Then suddenly he said "Mum," and turned towards the statue.

"Lily," he said.

And an hour later, the group sat on the steps of Snape's office, exhausted. Hermione clutched the chain of a silver Time-Turner in her hand. She was already starting to tear up. They tried their best to keep the office intact, but books and other trinkets were strewn about the floor, much to Hermione's dismay. "This'll be fun to clean," Harry said.

"Just get it over with, Hermione. Just get it over with," Ron said.

"Okay. Okay. Good-bye. Both of you. Behave yourselves. And Ronald?" she asked, turning to Ron.

"Yes, 'Mione?"

"Read every now and again."

The three friends had their final laughs together. Hermione put the chain around her neck.

"Good-bye," she said.

"Good-bye," the boys replied in unison.

She turned the pendant thirteen times.


	3. Eavesdropping

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters/situations you recognize. They go to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I'm making _no _money off this, and never will.

* * *

She counted the turns, keeping her eyes closed all the while. As much as she loved the feeling of flying backwards and traveling through time, this was different. It all hit her in the face.

"Mr Snape, it is your last year here, yes?" a familiar voice asked.

"_Mr Snape", _she thought. _Severus Snape? Wait, is that Dumbledore?_

"Yes, sir," a different voice answered.

"I have noticed you seem a little out of sorts." Dumbledore said. Hermione could feel her nose start to run and her eyes water.

"Have I?" the second voice interjected, sarcastically. It was definitely Snape. You couldn't mistake his bite. Realising what he just said, he added "Sir?"

Dumbledore began gently, "There's no need to get snippy, Mr Snape –" then abruptly stopped, mid-sentence.

A girl was standing in shadow in his office, crying. "Hello, Miss?"

Comprehending that she had to answer, she said "Miss Delaney". _What's your first name, what's your first name?_

"If you don't mind my asking, where did you come from?"

Hermione opened her eyes. Nothing much about Dumbledore's office had changed, only that he was younger and his beard a little shorter. She looked between Dumbledore and the stranger sitting in front of his desk. It was a younger version of Snape – a much younger version.

As an almost forty-year-old-man, he showed his age, plus a few years. But this version of him had no worry lines, and was staring at her out of curiosity, not hatred.

"May I speak with you, alone, sir?" she asked gingerly.

"I'm afraid, Miss Delaney, I'm engaged with another student. If you would like to come back later, I would be happy to speak with you," his gentle voice answered.

"It's very serious, sir."

He contemplated on this for a few seconds then spoke. "Mr Snape, if you would go back to your Potions class, I'll talk with you another day. I am dreadfully sorry for wasting your time."

"It's quite alright, Headmaster." He nodded at Dumbledore and stood. Snape glanced at Hermione, then turned and walked out of the office, his robes billowing behind him like they always did, pushing the door behind him.

Hermione waited a few moments longer – making sure Snape wasn't coming back – and sat down in one of the chairs. She mentally warned herself then spoke.

"Sir, I should get straight to the point. I'm from the future. A man told me to come back. I trust this man with my life. I had to." She paused, but Dumbledore said nothing, so she continued.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Normally, I would think things out a bit more, but with the –" she stopped herself and thought. "With the circumstances, I felt as if I should just do it."

"I wonder what would have happened if you didn't," he said after a moment's pause.

"You believe me?" Hermione had gradually stopped crying, and now her voice had steadied into its normal self.

"I fear I must."

"But… but why?" she said with the same inflection she would have used if to ask a professor why she got an E on an essay (If she ever had the need.)

"I can't do anything but trust you, Miss Delaney. I must clarify a few things. Delaney is not your real name?" he asked sternly.

"No, sir."

"Good. Never use it, rarely think it. Your thoughts aren't as safe as you might believe."

"Yes, sir," she repeated once more.

"You know that Time-Turners cannot go forward in time?"

"Yes, sir," she repeated once more.

He looked at her from above his half-moon spectacles. "You will be stuck on this timeline until you die."

"I assumed so, sir."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Good. We can enrol you in the school until we figure out just what you need to do. Not to stop this man from making his dying wish, I hope."

"Well if it was, and I succeed, then I wouldn't come back in the first place because he wouldn't tell me, and I wouldn't have done it because it was his dying wish, and it wouldn't make the Earth explode because I wouldn't have to do it in the first place, which means that I wouldn't come here to save him, because he didn't tell me, and so he wouldn't be saved, and he would have told me to come back, and if I succeeded again, or in the first place-"

Dumbledore stopped her rambling. "Miss Delaney, please breathe. He didn't have you come all this way just to die, now did he?" The man smiled.

"In other words…" she finished. "It would be a paradox. I can't, and shouldn't, save him."

"You're a smart girl. I'm sure most other students your age would want to save a man they trust with their life," Dumbledore concluded. "Before we enrol you, Miss Delaney, we must come up with a story. You can keep it as close to your life as possible or choose a more exaggerated life. First, what is your given name?"

Hermione thought for a moment, but couldn't think of anything. "This is such a big decision. I almost don't want to make it so fast."

"I've always been fond of the name Beatrice," the elderly man mused.

"Beatrice," she said aloud. "I suppose that might work. I'm afraid I don't look much like a Beatrice."

"You only think that because you've grown accustomed to your actual name. I'm sure you will look perfectly normal to the other students."

"Beatrice it is then. I suppose I need a middle name?"

"Yes you will, if you wish to be perfectly thorough."

"Monica, definitely Monica."

"Beatrice Monica Delaney, who are your parents?"

"Well, I suppose my mum could be Monica, too. I could have been named after her. And my father could just be John. What do I say if I'm asked why I'm just now joining Hogwarts?"

"You could say your family travelled and just moved back to England this summer. If anyone asks about your accent, you might tell them that you simply developed theirs, what with all the moving."

"It all sounds legitimate. Will I be sorted again? The first time I was sorted, I was almost a hatstall. The hat couldn't have recognised me."

"What house were you sorted into, Beatrice?"

"Gryffindor, sir."

"Yes. That does seem fitting," Dumbledore said. _How does that seem fitting? _

Dumledore opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. He paused just a second then said "Severus, why don't you step back into my office?"

The door was pushed open and the teenaged Severus Snape stood, with a blush on his face, his shoulders slumped, and staring at the floor, in obvious embarrassment.

_He must have learned his secrecy a little later in life, _she thought.

"Mr Snape, don't be so shy. You know as much about Beatrice as both of us. Come in, come in."

Snape did as he was told. He sat down in the chair next to Hermione, keeping his eyes trained on his shoes.

"Mr Snape and Miss Delaney, I received a letter yesterday asking me to the Ministry. Apparently, they need my services. I must be off," he said, picking up a piece of spare parchment and a quill. The elderly man started writing fervently. After he finished, he handed it to Snape.

"If anyone should ask, you have my permission. If anyone should question it, let them see this. If they don't believe it, then ask them to check for themselves."

"What is it for, exactly?" Snape asked.

"I'm giving you permission to take Miss Delaney for a butterbeer in Hogsmeade. I'm sure she needs something relaxing. Do not stay out too long, though," he said, standing from his chair. "I expect you back no later than dinner."


	4. The Dodgy Barmaid and Butterbeer

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters/situations you recognize. They go to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I am making _no_ money off this, and never will.

* * *

They didn't talk on their way to Hogsmeade. His gait was slow and casual. Hermione, still feeling intimidated by her past/future professor despite his age, walked behind him, stiff as a board.

They entered the Three Broomsticks and Snape sat down at the farthest table from the door. The barmaid greeted them with a "Hello lovelies, what can I get for you today?" and he replied a simple "Two butterbeers, please."

The woman walked away after giving them their orders. Severus Snape cast a silencing charm on their table. "The barmaid seems a bit dodgy," he said and then chuckled, though it was more of a manly giggle.

It was the first time she had ever heard anything near a laugh come out of Severus Snape. If she was being honest with herself, she found it a bit unnerving. She didn't even give a small smile, but instead stared at him.

"Well, okay then. My humour isn't to your liking."

"No, that's not it. I suppose I'm in shock," she said. _Using that phrase again, are we?_

"Then why did you do it?" he asked. He took a quick sip from his mug and set it down. The teenaged Snape looked at his drink and grimaced.

"Do what?"

"Use the Time-Tuner," he said, leaning forward and moving his mouth as little as possible.

"At the time it seemed reasonable."

"And it doesn't now? It was only an hour ago." he asked, again sarcastically.

"It makes a little less sense, but I can't I regret it. At least not now," she answered, thumbing the handle of her glass. "Besides, I think I was supposed to."

"What if you weren't 'supposed to'?" he mocked.

"Well, obviously I was, otherwise I wouldn't be here."

"Well, let's hope you never regret it. I have my fingers crossed. So…?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"Are you ever going to tell me your real name?"

"What if I'm not supposed to?" she questioned.

"What if you are?" he countered again.

"Then the opportunity will present itself."

"What if that opportunity is now?" he smirked his signature smirk.

"You won't let this go, will you?" Hermione picked up her wand and cast a wordless spell. Rosemerta had walked over to check on them.

"Not until I get something from you," he said. He kept the smirk on his face as he turned towards Rosemerta.

"How are we doing?" the woman asked.

"Just fine," Hermione answered. Snape turned back around towards Hermione, thinking the barmaid was done with them.

"Are you sure you two don't need anything? You're the only ones here and I'm dreadfully lonely."

Snape swung his head to look at the woman. Hermione recognized the glare he gave her. "We didn't come here to have mindless chatter. Now, if you please, _leave us alone._"

Rosemerta's face turned beet red. She turned and stomped off, muttering something (probably profanities) under her breath. Snape cast the silencing spell once more.

"'Mindless chatter'? You're telling me that what we're doing isn't mindless chatter?" she asked incredulously.

"No, because I'm getting useful information out of you."

"Useful information for what?"

The young Snape laughed. "Blackmail, humiliation, and anything else I can come up with."

"You have a dark sense of humour. What if I tell you my favourite colour? Will that satiate you?"

"What is your favourite colour?"

"Periwinkle." Hermione took another sip.

"Periwinkle? Merlin, you are such a girl. And no, that won't satisfy my cravings for knowledge." He took swig from his drink.

"I can't tell you my name. Not right now. That's final," she said; Snape sighed.

They didn't talk again until Hermione was halfway through her butterbeer. No one had come into the bar, and it seemed as though it would stay that way. Snape had finished his drink before he spoke again.

"Tell me what year you're from?" Snape asked.

"I'm not sure I should tell you that, either."

"Do I know you in the future?"

Hermione hesitated and looked into her half-empty mug. Telling someone their future didn't seem like a good idea to her. Should she indulge him? With just one thing?

"I left in nineteen ninety-eight. Please don't make me say anything more."

"Fine. I won't. I squeezed something out of you."

"I'm not sure it's enough to blackmail or humiliate me with."

"Believe me, if I wanted to, I could hurt you with just those two answers. Of course, you also gave me three."

"Three?"

"You avoided the second question. You know me," he answered. His expression grew from playful to hopeful and excited. "What do I do for a living? What am I like? Who do I marry? Are you my daughter?"

"You know I can't tell you those things… Except for that last question. No, I am not your daughter."

"I thought I'd try." Snape looked at her mug for minutes, barely blinking. It seemed to Hermione that he was trying to perform ligilimency on her poor drink. "Are you going to finish that?"

She looked into her glass again and couldn't see herself finishing it. Hermione shook her head.

Snape got up from his seat and moved towards Rosemerta to pay for their drinks. He mumbled a quick "thank you" and motioned for Hermione to follow him out the door.

Three quarters of the way back to Hogwarts, Hermione spoke. "What is the date?"

"September fourth, nineteen seventy-seven."


	5. Only Idiots

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters/situations you recognize. They go to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I am not making any money off this, nor will I ever.

* * *

"So, who are you?" a brunette girl asked Hermione at dinner that night. Puddings, cakes, fruits, and meats spanned the length of the table in mountains.

"Beatrice. Delaney," she answered. "And you?"

"Marcy Johnson. And tha' over there," she said, pointing at the girl sitting next to her. The red-head was obviously flirting, twirling her hair between her fingers and giggling profusely. "Tha' is the most disgustin' thin' I have ever seen."

Hermione recognised Lily Potter from some of Harry's pictures. "You don't like her?"

"Oh, no. I love her. She's my best friend. But her flirtin'! I don't like her and Po'er together," she said, leaning over the table and whispering. "I think he's a ba'influence. An' she's only jus' now fallin' for 'im. Now, tha' Remus… 'e's a whole diff'ent story. Quite the charmer 'e is. Well, if 'e wou'n't disappear so often."

Hermione laughed, knowing just why he did.

"Wha's ya first class Monday?" she asked, taking a bite of pudding and leaning back in her seat.

"Double potions, I think. I'll have to check my list again."

"Ooh. Double Potions. Two hou's of stirrin' and cookin'. Not really my thing. You'll 'ave to sit with Sniv'llus Greasy; I 'eard 'e's the only seat left. N'body likes 'im."

"Snivellus Greasy?'" Hermione asked.

Her voice lowered once more and became dead serious. "Sev'rus Snape: Slyth'rin house, deadly with spells, potions extraordinaire, and a right bligh'er. You'll want to avoid tha'one, you will," Marcy explained. Her tone suddenly perked up. "So why di'n't you start Hogwarts earlier?"

Hermione, trying to forget what the girl told her, almost gave Marcy a confused face, but then remembered her story. "My family travelled. We were almost constantly moving. _They _taught me magic. They decided to settle down, and so this summer we moved to England."

Marcy nodded her head and took another bite. When she finished chewing, she turned towards Lily. "Hey, Lil, stop ya flirtin' and greet the new girl."

'Lil' stopped her hair-twirling and looked at Marcy. The brunette waved her hand at Hermione. Lily's eyes widened, but quickly softened. "Oh. Oh, hello. I didn't realise you were new. I'm Lily. Lily Evans." She stuck her hand out over the mountains of food for Hermione to shake, and the know-it-all did just that.

"I'm Beatrice Delaney."

"It's nice to meet you, Beatrice," she said. Lily pointed between four boys sitting on the same side of the table as Hermione. "And this is James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter."

Dinner went well. Hermione did little talking about her past. Instead, she tried to redirect their questions on themselves. They asked her, for example, where she was from. She answered "Nowhere in particular. You?" and continued with her dinner.

Hermione tried not to get too friendly with Sirius and Remus. There would be some sort of clash when they finally met her. She felt an aversion to Peter. She thought this was perfectly natural, given the circumstances. However, with Marcy, James, and Lily, she tried to be likable (she didn't know any Marcy in the past/future and Lily and James were dead; no clash).

Hermione would occasionally look around the Hall. Severus was sitting as by himself as he could be. There was a seat between him and another person on his side of the table, as well as person sitting across from him. His head was bent over his plate (if there was even one there); his hair was shielding his face. She didn't see him eat anything at all.

He was just a lonely misfit, not nearly as intimidating as he was as a professor, and Hermione softened.

The next morning was, in fact, Double Potions. Hermione, eager as she was, made it five minutes early.

"Ah, Miss Delaney, I'm so glad you came early. I'm afraid there's only one seat left. He sits there," the professor – who she recognised as Horace Slughorn said, pointing to the back desk. _'He' must be Snape._

"Headmaster Dumbledore said you were advanced?"

"Did he?" Hermione asked. She sat down in the seat closest to the wall. "I'm not really sure about that." _Didn't take Potions this – last..? _

"Well, we'll see today." A few Hufflepuffs and a Slytherin walked into the classroom; Hermione paid no mind to them. Instead, she was going through her sixth year textbook in her mind. Slughorn brought her the Seventh Years' book.

"I'm having you all take a review exam." A Hufflepuff in the middle of the room groaned, overhearing their conversation. "I'm afraid that we've already gone over some of the material. But with the way the Headmaster talks about you, you should do just fine."

Snape walked into the classroom and stopped at the end of the desk. He stared at Hermione. She smiled at him. He rolled his eyes in a very Snape-like manner. She kept her smile. He sat down in the chair next to her..

Professor Slughorn watched the students' interaction from his desk. "Oh, and Miss Delaney?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"If you don't understand anything, I'm sure Mr Snape would be delighted to tutor you." Hermione was sure she heard Snape mutter "damn" under his breath.

Slughorn waited for a few, in Hermione's opinion, stragglers to make it to class before he started the lesson then handed out the papers.

"This is all we'll be doing today. Once you finish, turn them in up here and then you are free to leave. My start-of-term gift to you."

Thirty minutes later, Hermione finished the exam. She handed in the packet of papers at the front of the room. _Easier than Lockhart's, _she thought.

"Very good, Miss Delaney. You may leave quietly," Slughorn whispered loudly enough so she could hear.

She turned around, and behind her was Snape, walking between the wall and the row of desks. Hermione left the room and waited outside for him.

"You got called a blighter yesterday at dinner," she said to him. He kept walking and this time, she was beside him.

"Are you mocking or informing me?"

"Informing. No worries. I don't see you as one." _At least not yet, anyway._

"I guess that's nice. But why?" he asked, stopping in the hallway and turning to look at her.

"I don't know. You're first impression wasn't the best. Maybe it was the eye-roll?" She laughed as he rolled his eyes and started walking again. Fast.

Hermione caught up with him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Only idiots laugh at Severus Snape."

"I'm sorry. Really, I am."

"Stop your incessant apologising."

"I'm going to take it that you forgive me, then?"

He stopped walking again. "Are you trying to become my friend?"

Hermione thought for a moment. Her smile fell from her face. "You know, I'm not sure what I'm trying to do. But I'd bet my cat that's it. You don't seem to have many friends."

"I don't have any friends. That's the way I like it, too. I don't see how I put up with you in the future."

"You don't do it willingly," she said. Snape raised an eyebrow, but then started walking once more, but slow enough for Hermione to walk next to him.

"S-Severus, I'm sorry for what they do to you," Hermione said after a minute.

Instead of snarky comeback, he simply said "Me, too."

Once they reached the point where they had to part ways (Snape to the Slytherin Common Room, and Hermione to the Gryffindor), he stopped her.

"Will you meet me outside the Great Hall after dinner? I have something to show you."

"Er… Sure, I would love to," she said and smiled. Then Hermione almost skipped up to the Common Room. _I think I just broke Severus Snape!_


	6. In Which Hermione Actually Eats

Disclaimer: All of the characters/situations you recognize go to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I am not making any mony off of this and I never will.

* * *

Snape stood just outside the Great Hall after dinner. "Merlin, what took you so long?" he asked Hermione when she finally left. He had a small messenger bag lying on the floor beside him.

"I was _actually_ eating," Hermione explained.

"You're implying that I don't?" he asked in his normal, sarcastic tone.

"I haven't seen you eat," she said and then paused. "That doesn't mean you haven't, I guess."

"No, it doesn't. Follow me." Snape started walking up the staircase closest to the doors. He swung his sack over his shoulder.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked.

"You'll find out in a minute. But," he said, his voice changed and filled with excitement, "it's amazing. It was last year when I did. That atrocious Potions book…" he trailed.

Remembering the Half-Blood Prince's Sixth Year Potions book, she said "What about it?"

"It had so many things wrong with it. I noticed them, of course, so I had to take action. It was so terrible, I _had_ to. And to think Slughorn could teach with something that terrible! Anyway, I was wandering about the castle one day when it just appeared with everything I would need inside."

"The Room of Requirement?" Hermione interjected.

"You know about it?" he asked.

"Of course I know about it," she said. Now it was her time to roll her eyes, but she smiled. For a moment, she thought about telling him she had used it, then decided against it.

"Well, that's convenient. I don't have to explain it to you."

Hermione laughed at him.

"I was hesitant to use it," he continued. "I thought it could have been Slughorn's office, or something. But for some reason, I was drawn to it. So, now I use it."

"What do you do with it?" she asked.

"That's what I'm going to show you!" he exclaimed.

_It's strange to hear him so excited,_ she thought.

A few minutes later, they found themselves inside the Room of Requirement.

Snape reached inside his bag and pulled out the familiar Potions book. It was still badly tattered, but in much better shape.

"It's strange that they still use the same textbooks. I feel like something would have changed _somewhere_ after all these years."

"I agree with you, given the monstrosity this book is." He sat the textbook on the desk and opened it. "Stop making me so old."

Snape showed Hermione all the revisions he made to the recipes. His voice had gone a pitch higher and louder. To Hermione, it seemed like he just wanted recognition, and was finally happy to show it someone. _It's really not a surprise with the way people treat him. I wonder what he ever did…_

"After I'm done going through the Potions, I think I might leave it here. For another worthy student," he said smirking.

Hermione mentally laughed. Snape definitely would not have though that Harry was worthy of his old textbook.

"Maybe it will teach them something. Especially if that idiot Slughorn is still teaching then," he finished.

#

_I won't stutter his name anymore,_ she thought that night in her bed, before she started saying 'Severus' over and over in her mind. _I shouldn't have any more problems if I keep this up._

#

The next morning, Hermione made it down to breakfast before most everybody else. She sat at the end of the Gryffindor table. All of the teachers – except Slughorn– were there, sitting at the High Table.

She scanned the room; two other Gryffindors, three Ravenclaws, and ten Hufflepuffs. _When have the Hufflepuffs ever been so punctual? _The Ravenclaws sat in one group, the Hufflepuffs in a few. There were only five Slytherins, and like the Gryffindors, they were spread out across the table. Snape sat at the end, in the same place he was the evening before.

Perking up some of her Gryffindor courage, she walked up to the Slytherin table and sat down in front of Snape.

His head was buried in a book. Hermione could not tell what kind it was– the cover was pressed against the table-top.

"Good morning, Severus." _Yes!_

"You aren't supposed to sit here," he said, raising his eyes– and eyebrows – from his book.

"I know. But you look like you could use some company. I won't eat a thing and when the room fills up, I'll move back to the Gryffindor table. I'm sure it doesn't bother them," she said with a slightly shaky voice.

"You don't seem like one for rule breaking."

"Rules don't mean much to me anymore. Not the silly ones, at least."

"Dumbledore is looking at you."

"He's probably making sure I don't divulge any information."

"Well, I don't need you company," he said, lifting his book to eye level. _The Great Gatsby?_

"He was a Muggle," she said, then quickly regretted it. _Stop being such a know-it-all!_

Snape sighed and lowered his book. "Who was a Muggle?"

"F. Scott Fitzgerald," she answered.

"No. He was an American wizard."

"But he died so young. Don't wizards and witches live for ages? I mean, look at Dumbledore."

Snape laughed at her again. "Wizards get sick, too, you know. He had a heart attack. You'd be surprised how common it is dying young is in the Wizard World. Especially if they were heavy drinkers."

Hermione had never really thought about it. _Wizards are humans too, I suppose. And things happen. _Snape put his nose back into his book.

Hermione didn't say anything more until he sat his book down, and took a few bites of toast. The Hall had started filling up, but the Slytherins were slower; there were only twenty of them, most were first and second years.

"Do you have a free period this morning?"

"I think all the seventh years do," he said with his mouth full.

"Are we all in the same classes?" again, she asked. "Except for Marcy."

"There's so little of us," he answered. "Yes. I think so. Unless there's another lonely seventeen-year-old all by himself."

She let his finish his food and didn't interrupt him. Hermione saw Lily and Marcy walk in, but they didn't see her. He was the next one to speak.

"How did you know about that spell?"

"What spell?" she asked.

"The silencing spell. There's no way you could have looked through the book before I showed it to you."

"You mustn't be saying things like that. Not with all of these people," she whispered.

"Relax. I casted it. You think I can't cast my own spells wordlessly? Now, if you don't mind, answer my question."

Hermione thought for a moment. "Well, if you want to get technical, in the whole scheme of things, no. I didn't look through the book before you showed it to me." He looked confused, so she explained further.

"You can look at it in people's timelines, I suppose. Last year, on my timeline, I looked into the book. This won't be for some time in your timeline. Our timelines… cross twice. One now and one in your future, but my past. Do you get it?"

"So, our timelines are reversed? I'll draw it out later if I need to. But thank you for that, Beatrice. Because now my head will hurt all day. I never should have known where you were from. It makes things far too confusing for me."

"For you? You think they aren't confusing for me? I've had a two-day-long headache," she said while laughing.

"You might want to get that checked out," he replied, turning his smirk into a full-fledged grin.

"Oh, shut up, you."

By this time, the Slytherins had started filing in.

"You best go back to your own table," Snape said.

Hermione said good-bye and made her way to the seat beside James. Lily sat across from him, and beside her was Marcy.

"Where 'ave you been?" Marcy asked.

"Just wandering about. Trying to familiarise myself with the castle."

"Oh, well, you should've told us. We were worried sick, and just about ready to go looking for you," Lily said.

"I'm sorry," Hermione started. "Next time, I'll leave a note. I didn't realise I would be worrying you."

James turned to look at Hermione, smiling. "Beatrice, don't look now, but ol' Dumbledore is staring at you."

Hermione laughed.

"Well, he said he was going to keep an eye on me. I didn't think he would mean it _literally_."

The group of Gryffs laughed at her.

"We saw you got stuck with Snivellus in Potions class yesterday. Sorry about that," Sirius said. "But I guess there's nothing we could have done."

"Slughorn assigns us seats," Peter started. "He noticed that Snivelly was," he paused, "disliked. So he made him sit by himself. The class was full with you."

"We really are sorry. If there was anything we could do, we'd do it. But it's our last year. Thought we might try to be good," Sirius said. "But it probably won't last," he snorted.

"It's not a problem. He's really not that bad," Hermione said.

"'E's not givin' you any problems, is 'e?" Marcy asked. "'Cause I could take 'im down." Right then, Marcy reminded Hermione of Seamus Finnegan.

"We know you could, Marcy," Remus said nodding at her then continued, talking at Hermione. "But is he?"

"No, really he's not. We didn't even talk during the class. He doesn't seem that bad."

"We can make sure it stays that way. We don't want anyone else getting needlessly hurt by him," James concluded. He looked at Lily and reached across the table. James grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry," he said to her.

"It's fine. It's not your fault," she said with tremors in her voice, looking at her plate. Everyone near her was sure she was going to burst into tears. But she didn't. Instead, she sniffled and rubbed her eyes with her free hand, and continued eating her breakfast. Sirius and Remus did the same, but Peter was done with his before Hermione even made it to the table.

Hermione finished up her food, then went back to her dormitories to make sure she had everything for her classes.


	7. Bloody Essays

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters/situations you recognize. They belong to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I'm making no money off this, and never will.

* * *

Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table at lunch that day, but could barely find a seat. That afternoon, she was sitting with a couple of third years, which really didn't bother her. She had been jittery all morning and felt like she couldn't handle even being late for lunch. Her morning classes hadn't gone well.

She looked across the table for Lily and Marcy– they were there– but they weren't sitting with the Marauders. The boys weren't there at all. _That _bothered her– especially because Severus wasn't there either. What James had said at breakfast gave her anxiety of the worst kind. Hermione had been thinking about it all morning.

She hurriedly ate just enough food to last her until dinner, then left the Great Hall. She had about thirty minutes to look. _Severus first, _she thought. She ran after she left the Hall and straight to the Room of Requirement.

When she reached it, she thought only of finding Snape. The door appeared. Hermione had ten minutes until the next class; no matter what, she would be late for her Charms class. She stepped inside the Room.

And there was Snape, writing something on a piece of paper with a Muggle pen. He was standing parallel with the door, so Hermione could only see half of his face. But that was all she needed to see. There were scratches on his cheek and forehead, blood was pouring from his nose and falling on his paper.

He spun around towards Hermione. She raised her wand, sure he was going to cast a curse on her, but he held nothing at all. His mouth was open, starting to say something, but he slowly closed it and took a deep breath.

He had a black eye and even more scratches on his face. His right arm's sleeve was torn lengthwise and Hermione noticed a few buttons were missing from his shirt.

"Go away. I'm working on an essay. I don't need you or your obnoxious behaviour."

"What happened?" she whispered.

"What do you think happened?"

"I'm sorry," she said.

He leaned back on the table. In doing so, he knocked the pen to the floor. Snape bent down to pick it up then threw it on the table. His hands gripped the edge. His face was even paler than usual, only making the blood stand out more.

"We need to get you cleaned up. And then we can take you to the Hospital Wing."

"I don't want to go."

"What do you want then? I want to help."

"I don't need your help."

"You say that but I don't think you mean it. Now what do you need?"

"A new wand. That's the first thing I need," he said, slightly nodding his head. Then, he mumbled something like "exhausting girl" under his breath. Hermione wasn't sure.

"Then we need to speak with Dumbledore, don't we?"

"Do you want to come?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," she answered.

He raised his voice. "Why? Why would you spend your time with me? I'm filthy and foul."

"But you're not. You're sarcastic, but that's just your humour. You're– you're my friend."

"I'm your friend?" he asked sarcastically. "They said they needed to protect you from me."

Hermione kept her voice as even as possible. "Because they didn't believe me when I said that you were okay."

They stared at each other for a few moments.

"Do you have some water?" Severus asked.

"I can." She walked to an empty cauldron on a shelf (if it _had_ been used, it would have been cleaned; she wasn't stupid, even if it was only water) and said "Aguamenti." She brought the water over to Snape. He had found or conjured a rag.

He dampened the cloth and started wiping at his face. Hermione held the cauldron up for him when he needed to rinse the cloth but other than that, she just stood by him.

After a minute or two, he stopped wiping and dabbing and started scratching with the cloth. Hermione set the water down and grabbed the rag from him, dropped it to the floor but kept hold of his hands.

She made sure her voice was stern. "Stop it."

"To Dumbledore?" he asked after a second.

"To Dumbledore."

Hermione and Snape made their way to the nearest classroom; transfiguration. They would need a professor to get to Dumbledore's office. She knocked on the door and McGonagall answered.

"Shouldn't you two be in-" McGonagall stopped after she noticed Severus. His scratches hadn't quite stopped bleeding and he had given up wiping it on his sleeve.

"We should get you to the Hospital Wing," she continued.

"No, Professor. I need to replace my wand," he said, pulling something out of his pocket. Two somethings.

"We need to get you healed," McGonagall said. "And I won't take no for an answer." She turned around back towards her class and said, "I'll only be gone for a few minutes. I'll know if there's any roughhousing. I won't stand for it."

Professor McGonagall led them to the Hospital Wing. Severus slowly followed. Pomfrey healed him. Neither of the two women cared when Hermione followed the professor and student.

On their way to Dumbledore's office, McGonagall spoke.

"Who did this to you?"

"No one but myself. I fell down the stairs," he answered. They were walking behind the professor so when Hermione gave him a 'why-are-you-lying?' look and Snape shrugged, she didn't see.

"Well you really should be more careful, Mr Snape. You could have killed yourself. And you broke your wand. Would it be possible for you to send to your mother or father asking for a replacement?"

"No, Professor. It would not be possible. My mother is dead and my father is a Muggle." _His voice didn't even falter. Oh, Severus._

"Oh. Well, I am very sorry to hear that. Miss Delaney?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Were you with Mr Snape when it happened?"

"Er, yes ma'am."

"Good. Headmaster Dumbledore will want to speak with you as well," McGonagall said as she stood in front of the entrance. "Liquorice snaps," she said towards the phoenix and it began to move.

She led the two students up the stairs and informed Dumbledore of what happened– what she thought happened. Dumbledore asked her to leave and get back to her class.

"Now I'm assuming that what you told Professor McGonagall was a lie," Dumbledore said to Snape.

The teenager looked at Hermione for help. Her eyes widened. He nodded his head. _I guess he doesn't know how to say it._

"Yes, sir," she finally said.

"I figured as much. Would you tell me who did this to him?" he directed toward Hermione.

"I'm not entirely sure myself," she answered.

Dumbledore asked Snape what had happened. When Severus told him, he kept his eyes fixed on the ground.

"I can't tell you sir. I don't want to tell you. I just need a new wand."

"You realise that if you don't tell me, you're not giving them the punishment they deserve?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"Yes, sir. I do."

Dumbledore scribbled something on a small piece of parchment and then stood from his seat.

"Miss Delaney, you are excused. Give this to your professor," he said, handing her the note.

"Mr Snape," he continued. "I will accompany you to Diagon Alley. I will be most happy to pay for your wand."

"Sir, I couldn't take that. I have plenty in my dormitory. I just need to get to there."

"I insist," Dumbledore said as Hermione left the office.

* * *

AN: I have to credit my beta, Madison, for giving me the idea of a fight. It was brilliant. I may not have written it quite like she imagined, because I didn't write a fight at all. I'm a cowardly writer, and I had no idea how fist-fights work (I've never been in one). Nonetheless, credit is given where credit is due. Thanks, Madison.


	8. Bea and Rus

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters/situations you recognize. They belong to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I'm making no money off this, and never will.

* * *

That night, Hermione waited for Severus to leave the Great Hall after he was done "eating". She sat away from the Marauders. Instead, she sat with the first, second, and third years again. They seemed happy to see her. Maybe they just wanted her to do their essays. Either way, she didn't care. It was better than the alternative.

Whenever she heard Lily laughing, she knew it was something James had said. They reminded Hermione of Lavender and "Won-Won" so much that she almost vomited right there on the table.

When the younger students would quiet down, she would overhear the Marauders' conversations. One time, she heard Marcy ask Sirius what it was like to "finally get your 'ands on tha' mutt?" She didn't hear his response. But it confirmed Hermione's fears.

Never in her life had she thought she would side with her grumpy teacher. However, that night she did. And she didn't feel strange or wrong for it.

She saw Severus stand up. As he was walking to leave, someone tripped him. He fell. He stood back up and rearranged his robes but neglected to fix his hair. It covered his face like a black veil.

Hermione quickly stood and followed him outside of the Hall. When she caught up with him, she spoke.

"Why did you lie?"

"Why did I lie about what, Beatrice?"

"About what happened? Why did you lie about what they did to you?"

"Because _I_ need to get them back myself," he calmly said. "Dumbledore wouldn't have given them what they deserve."

"And just how do you plan to do that?" she asked.

"Let's not talk about it here. Let's go to the Room."

They walked as fast as they could to the Room of Requirement. On their way, paintings would look at them strangely and a few even told them it was nearing curfew and for them to head to their common rooms.

When they reached their destination, Severus conjured the door, it appeared, and they walked in. Hermione was a bit surprised by what she found inside of the Room.

Instead of the normal potions lab and desk, there was a small and round table– like the ones you see in ice cream parlours– with chairs on opposite ends of it. Snape sat down on one.

"So you want to know how I plan to take my revenge on them?" he asked.

"Of course," she answered.

"I don't know how," he said, "but I will. It might take me years, but I will."

_Unfortunately, it will take you years, _she thought then regretted it. _Damn you! He's probably reading your thoughts right now! Think of something else! Crimson, bow ties, your eleventh birthday, rain, telephone booths. _

"You know, Severus," Hermione started. "We all do stupid things when we're young and– " Snape stopped her.

"I suppose that's how I'll do it. It will take me years, but the psychological damage is worse than the physical. I hope they shrivel up with guilt." He smiled.

"Severus-" Hermione tried again but Severus cut her off.

"No. You will not tell me that I need to forgive them. I won't ever forgive them."

"That's not what I was going to say," she said.

"Then what?" he asked happily.

"Do you miss your mum?"

"Sometimes. But I don't think I ever truly _loved_ her. That would break her heart if she heard that. But I was fond of her and I did like her."

The Room gave the two some tea. He sipped some before he spoke again.

"Do you miss your friends and family?"

"I try not to think about them. When I do, it hurts. Sometimes I just want to go home. But then I realise that this is one of my homes. It has been since I was eleven, just like everybody else who has ever gone to school here. And that only makes it hurt more, me not being happy in my own home." Hermione took a drink from her teacup. "You did well in Defence today, I noticed."

"I always do well in Defence Against the Dark Arts. I'm a natural at it."

"What do you want to do after you finish Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not sure. I haven't really done my research. But I'm taking my N.E.W.T.S in all of my best subjects. It just so happens that's what everybody else takes," he said as he laughed. "I know I don't want to work at the Ministry. That does _not_ leave very many openings, does it?"

"No, it doesn't. I thought when I was younger that I wanted to work there. Not so much now. And besides, I need to stay far away from the public eye."

"Do you know anyone else from your time?"

"I know a few. Black and Lupin," she said. She thought it would be best not to mention Lily or James; she wanted to keep him as calm as she could. "Most of the professors, and I recognise a few names here and there."

"So when they first see you, they're going to recognise you, aren't they?" he asked.

"Probably," she answered. "I'm not too worried about it, though. I can't recall them ever hinting to anything. But they probably knew."

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment.

"For what?"

"For making you hurt. Thinking about it all. It's written plainly all over your face. And I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Severus. I know you meant no harm."

"We should get back. Before someone catches us. I'm assuming you know the disillusionment charm?"

"Yes, I do," Hermione said, standing up.

"Okay, good," he said, doing the same.

They walked to the door and Hermione stopped him.

"Did you know 'Severus' is a mouthful of a name?"

"Did you know 'Beatrice' is a mouthful of a name?" he replied.

"Yes, I did. You could shorten it if you wanted to."

"Don't call me 'Sev'." he paused, cocked his head to the side, and his eyes looked down. "_Bea_, never call me 'Sev'."

"What about 'Rus'?"

He raised an eyebrow. "No one's ever called me Rus. Why not you, aye?"

"Thank you, _Rus_."

* * *

AN: I wanted to get this up yesterday, but it was busy and hectic. By the time I made it home, I was just... sort of... _blergh. _Better late than never, right? Anyway, I want to think all of you that have reviewed, favorited, and followed. It keeps me writing, literally. Probably wouldn't have kept posting.  
I also used a Doctor Who reference. I needed something innocent for her to think about, and, conveniently enough, just watched that episode. Thank you, Doctor Who.


	9. Abnormally Large Noses

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters/situations you recognize. They belong to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I'm making no money off this and never will.

* * *

The rest of the term passed nicely. Hermione was confident in her classes. She persevered at night when she was trying to study and the other Gryffindor girls wanted to dabble with Muggle make-up and have, as cliché as it was, pillow fights. She would tell _Rus _this and he would only laugh.

She started making friends with the first, second, and third years she sat with at meals. Fortunately, they only asked for help on their homework, instead of asking her to do it for them. She would, however, proofread their essays.

At breakfast, she would sit with Severus until the tables started filling. They rarely talked then, both preferring to read or finish homework than talk. They would both "skip" lunch and go the Room of Requirement to talk, sometimes about serious things (like Lily– he never told her what happened but she let him know that she knew and understood), classes, his interest – _interest_ he "preferred to learn about it rather than perform it" – in the Dark Arts (Hermione accepted it, knowing that's just how he was), or how he would lose his socks. The Room would provide them with meals if they were hungry.

Hermione was always taken by surprise when Snape would laugh. It was still very strange to her. She thought she would never get used to it.

One day, Severus asked her about his nose:

"_So what about my nose?" he asked._

"What about _your nose?"_

"_Does it ever… you know?"_

"_Does it ever stop looking abnormal on your face?"_

"_You might as well just call me ugly," he said._

"_No that's not what I meant," she said, laughing. "I mean, it looks disproportionate right now. _You grow into your nose._"_

"_Thank Merlin," he whispered, sure she wouldn't hear it._

Sometimes, he would ask more personal things about his future. For example, he asked if he had a family. Hermione told him she didn't know.

It hurt her more lying to him than it did thinking of her past. To her, it felt incredibly wrong.

It seemed to Hermione that he was less of the Snape she remembered – less secretive, cunning, and quiet. Maybe it was just because he had gotten to know her. She just didn't know. But having these talks with him made her understand her old professor a little better. A lot had happened to him.

At the start of December, Dumbledore called Hermione to his office to talk about her future. They decided that she would stay at Hogwarts over the summer. They would work out further details then.

The two friends would normally skip the trips to Hogsmeade as well. One day closer to the Christmas break, Hermione asked to go alone. Severus complied. The next trip, he went alone.

Hermione picked him up a large leather-bound notebook which she would then enchant to expand as he filled it. Before she gave it to him, he wrote all of his recipes, conclusions, and important notes on any piece of paper, parchment, or scroll he could find. Hermione would help him compile and organize all of these for his Christmas present.

Snape purchased her a huge bag of candy from Honeydukes. She offered him some, and they both ate it up on Boxing Day.

For his birthday, she bought him rainbow socks. _Dobby would approve,_ she had thought.

They were designed so you never lost them; they always reappeared in your trunk or drawer (wherever they belonged). The seller didn't have any plain white or black ones ("Already sold out, Missy. Apparently the other students like them a lot too."). So she was left with either pink or rainbow. And Severus was more of a rainbow guy than a pink guy.

She knew she would have to be careful, but other people where coming back for another pair. Besides they, and Madame Pomfrey, were smart enough to figure something out if anything happened. Why not?

* * *

"Happy birthday, Rus!" she shouted as she closed the Room's door behind her.

"How did you know? I never told you," he said looking up from his notebook and setting his quill in his inkpot.

"Time traveler, I am. Nice to see how thick-headed you are." she laughed. "_Any-way_, here is your birthday present."

For a few moments, he let his emotional guards completely down. He looked as if he was going to cry but was smiling. "I get a birthday present?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't you?" she asked.

He answered her speaking slowly. "I have never received a birthday present. My mother said it was too close to Christmas. She said it would have been silly if I got two Christmases."

"Well then, happy birthday," Hermione said once more.

He ripped open the Daily Prophet wrapping paper (which Hermione got from one of the second years names Gabby).

"Socks. Rainbow socks," he said, obviously disappointed. Snape looked up from his package.

"It was either that or pink."

"Why socks in the first place?"

"I wasn't sure what to get you at all, so I was just browsing through Hogsmeade shops and this vendor had a big sign advertising something 'unique in its own right', which I suppose should have been a tip-off that it wasn't actually something amazing but there was long line in front of it so my curiosity got the best of me, so I waited in line just to see what it was and turns out, they're socks that can never be lost so you can't get rid of them even if you tried. You were always complaining about how you were losing your socks or how maybe someone was stealing them so I thought it'd be good to get, especially because I thought you'd react the way you did which was humorous, I must say." Hermione inhaled a deep breath.

"Bea?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome."

"Bea?" he repeated. "You said you weren't sure what you wanted to do, correct?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"I'll give you some advice. _Never _become a writer."

Hermione laughed, not expecting that at all. "Why not?" she asked.

"You have far too many run-on sentences. You'd never make it past an editor."

Sarcastically, she said "Thanks for your support, Rus. You are so very kind."


	10. March Seventeenth

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters/situations that you recognize. They belong to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I am making no money off this, and never will.

* * *

Everything was going well. That was the easiest way to sum up Hermione's life in the past: "well". Snape did not have any more collisions with the Marauders (she would say they "stayed out of his greasy hair" just to wind him up). She was passing her classes and confident she would do well in her N.E.W.T.s. The seventh years (except Marcy; she took a different class) had a free period after lunch in this new term, which Hermione and Severus used to do actual studying. Once the snow melted, all of the seventh years started spending their free periods outside in the afternoons (it was comfortably warm, and if it wasn't, they could always cast a warming charm), the two misfit friends were no exceptions.

March seventeenth, however, proved difficult. Hermione woke up late, missed breakfast, and was tardy to her first class. She didn't even have time to tame her hair. Severus was missing from all of the classes. At lunch, she went to the Room, but Severus didn't show up. During her free period, she looked in every plausible place he would be (except for the Slytherin common room).

She was heading back outside when she realised she hadn't seen James since her last morning class. Remembering a bloody Severus, she made her way to the Hospital Wing, just to be sure and to quell her curiosity.

And there he was again, bruised, bloodied, and battered. _This is the third time I've seen him like this! Something needs to stop!_ His left arm was in a sling and he was lying on a bed with Madame Pomfrey fussing over him.

He must have heard the door open or shut. Snape turned his head toward her and half-heartedly smiled.

"Madame Pomfrey, may I speak with him?" she asked.

Pomfrey contemplated on this for a few seconds then nodded her head. "Only because I know how close you two are," she said as she turned and walked away.

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

His voice was raspy and barely audible as he spoke.

"Lily spoke with me this morning. She said she forgave me but that it didn't change how things were. She said if it happened once, it would happen again. Potter saw us. I didn't feel quite myself after that and just needed some time alone so I didn't go to classes.

"But I was walking to the Room at lunch to speak with you and he found me. He said that I needed to stay away from L-Lily otherwise 'this'," he made hand quotations with his good hand, "would happen once more. He fought me without a wand this time so I fought with my fists as well. You know that isn't really my strongest ability. My pride got in the way. I thought it was a fair fight but he had experience. He gave me plenty of opportunities to run. I should have taken them. Now, Pomfrey wants me to stay the night."

Hermione sat down in a visitor's chair beside the bed.

"Did you tell someone who did it?" she asked.

"Just you," he replied.

"Has someone asked you?"

"No. I went straight here. And Madame Pomfrey doesn't ask too many questions."

"You have to tell someone. This has gone too far out of our hands. He's breaking bones! He deserves it!"

"I can't."

"You are right," she said gently. "You _are_ too proud."

"You're damn right I am," he whispered, noticing that Pomfrey was coming back.

She shooed Hermione away with an "Alright, off you go. Let him get his rest."

Before she left, though, Severus stopped her. "Bea?"

"Yes."

"Bring me my homework, will you? I'm awfully bored."

So in her next free period, she gathered everything he could do in a bed,\ and brought it to him.

Snape didn't go to any more of the classes and Hermione guessed he wouldn't be at dinner. But she hoped. And he wasn't there. But James was.

"James Potter! You are foul," she said, sitting down in front of him. "He's going to hate me for doing this but I need to say it. You have no right or reason to go beating up on him. If you need a punching bag, find a wall, a table, or a door perhaps. But lay off the people."

"What do you mean?" asked Lily.

"I'm not going to spoil him for you," Hermione said. Lily went back into conversation with a blonde sixth year.

She turned towards James and whispered, "I see you are not with those friends of yours. But tell them I said to stop. It's your last year here. You have already ruined his life. Grow up."

James looked taken aback. Hermione got up from her seat. She stormed out of the Great Hall and marched her way to the Hospital Wing.

Madame Pomfrey saw her come in, but the look on Hermione's face told her to back off and let to two talk.

"Rus, I'm sorry. I really am. I just made things worse."

"What did you do?" he said then slurped up a spoonful of soup.

"I told Potter to piss off."

He laughed. "Did you say it in those words?"

"Do you think I only said it in two words? Do you really not know me by now?" Hermione had to laugh with Severus.

"It _is_ okay. I think he needed to hear it. Getting a bit too cocky, he is. Thinks he owns the school."

"You're one to talk about cockiness, Severus Snape," she said.

He took another bite/drink of his soup. "You don't mind me eating, do you?"

"No. I'm not that hungry anyway. So is Madame Pomfrey still insisting you stay the night?"

"Yes. I think she wants to make sure that whoever did this to me won't came back for more."

"I hope he doesn't. I'm so sorry if he does."

"Please stop, Beatrice."

"Fine, I'll try. But I will make no promises."

"I'm glad you said that. I might be proud, but I don't think I could tell my own tormentor that. Thank you."

Severus Snape did _not_ say 'thank you' very much. Only a few times before had she ever heard those two sincere words come out of his mouth.

And to Hermione, it was just like his laugh.


	11. Severus Finds His Fate

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters/situations you recognize. They belong to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I am making no money off this, and never will.

* * *

The N.E.W.T's were nearing and all of the seventh years were getting tense– so tense that in the class and common rooms, you could cut it with knife.

The classes started reviewing everything that they had gone over that year. Except for Potions and Charms, which started cramming in last minute information. Some of it, they said, would be crucial to their passing. The pressure was on and every seventh year felt it.

To top it all off, Dumbledore started calling Hermione to his office once a week. They would talk about job opportunities and choices. Obviously, something in the lime light was crossed off the list. She wasn't interested in much of anything else. They came to the conclusion that the easiest thing for her, until she decided on something more interesting, was to be an assistant for a teacher.

In one of these meetings, Hermione let something slip about Horcruxes. She forgot what time she was in, comfortably talking with her Headmaster in a familiar office.

"_There is a position at the Ministry that doesn't deal with the press often. Department of Magical Equipment Control. It says here that they standardise and regulate magical equipment as well as detect sub par merchandise. The job might also include searching for said merchandise. Sound of interest?" he asked._

"_I'd rather not be hunting Horcruxes for the rest of my life."_

"_Horcruxes?" he asked. "Where did you learn about Horcruxes? It wasn't taught in our curriculum, I assume?"_

"_No, sir. I read something outside of school."_

"The last N.E.W.T! Thank Merlin," Hermione heard a Ravenclaw say. She thought her name was Meredith. Regardless, Hermione had to sit in front to her. "Meredith" chewed on her quill. She would occasionally bite off bits and spit them out. She flung two out so far that they landed on Hermione's test along with little droplets of spit. One hit the back of her neck.

"I had to sit in front of her during the O. . It was the most disgusting thing that has ever happened to me," Severus said once Meredith was out of earshot. "Bea, let's go the Room. I have something to tell you."

Once more, the two walked to the Room of Requirement. _This is going to be one of the last times we do this,_ she thought.

Both Hermione and Snape sat down at a chair.

"Bea, I need your opinion."

_What? He never needs _anyone's_ opinion. _"On what?" she asked.

"During the Christmas holiday, when I was shopping in Hogsmeade, this man… approached me. He said that he saw himself in me. He said that he wanted me to join him on a walk. I felt compelled to do so but I don't know why. In retrospect, I think I should have been worried, what with him seeing himself in me but I was the least bit bothered.

"So we walked to where people really couldn't hear us, but we could see the main street. He told me that he had spoken with Dumbledore about recruiting apprentices from Hogwarts. He wanted to start some research projects, I think, and needed someone decent at making potions, as he himself wasn't. Dumbledore said I would be a perfect candidate."

He leaned forward in his chair and continued. "He knows so much about Dark Magic, Bea! He showed me some… mediocre spells. I could have done them myself really. But he knows more about things than even the restricted section. He said he would be delighted to take me in after I finished school," he said.

_Voldemort, _she thought. _Why had it never occurred to me that he would have lied to Rus?_

"Now here's where I need your opinion," he continued. "I know this man isn't very good. I don't believe he's evil but he's not good at heart. There's so much he could teach me though! I want to know if you think it is a good move for me. Do you?"

"Give me a minute or two to think about it all, Rus."

_This is obviously Voldemort. He was a half-blood interested in the Dark Arts. He probably used Legilimency on all of the students. Or maybe he did lie to Dumbledore. Maybe he wasn't lying at all. Hermione, why on earth are you even considering any of this? He was a Death Eater. You know this. This will decide his future, and it's already been decided for you. He was a Death Eater._

"I'm not sure if it would be a good move, Rus. But, whatever you choose to do, I won't say 'I told you so' if it fails. I promise."

"Would you make an Unbreakable Vow?"

"No, I don't think I would do that. Some of your smugness has worn off on me. Besides, I'm too smart to do that," she said, laughing.

"Thanks, Bea," he said sarcastically. "I'll send him an owl later today."

"Just out of curiosity, what was his name?"

"I believe his name is Tom Riddle."

* * *

AN: I have to credit "Rewind" by Seinde (which was an awesome story, I highly recommend reading it) for this chapter. It had never occurred to me that Snape wouldn't know exactly what he was getting into when he signed up to be a Death Eater. So, thanks to Seinde.

I also took the Department of Magical Equipment Control job description from the Harry Potter Wiki. That site's very useful. :)


	12. Hermione's End

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters/situations you recognize. They belong to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I'm making no money off this and never will.

* * *

The school year ended. Both Hermione and Severus did well on their N.E.W.T.s. James didn't even look at either of them for the rest of the term. Hermione was asked to write to some of the second and third years during the summer. She wasn't sure if she was going to.

Severus decided to join Tom Riddle on his "research" projects. Hermione made no objections and barely voice her opinion on the matter. She thought it was best to keep her nose out of those things. After they finished their time at Hogwarts, Severus left.

Hermione _did_ stay. During the days, she would wander around the castle, looking at everything and nothing in particular.

She found it eerie, in a practically empty school. It just wasn't the same without the hustle and bustle of students frantically trying to find the right corridor or stairwell to their next class.

Hermione was relieved, though, after three weeks. Severus sent her an owl.

_Bea,_

_We must talk in person. Please meet me at this park tomorrow at five. Unfortunately, you can't apparate there. It's very strange. Maybe the Ministry has something to do with it, it's a very public place, really. However, I have included directions from an apparate-able location. I hope you can make it._

_We'll meet at the "lake", which is actually a big pond, but it has a shore. Maybe that's why they call it a lake. _

_Severus_

That evening, Hermione found her way to the pond. Sure enough, he was there.

"Hello, Rus. It seems like it's been months."

"Yes, yes it has. How are things going at Hogwarts? Are you bored yet?"

"It's very boring there. I didn't think I would ever say that. All I can really do is walk around that castle. There's no entertaining books in the library. How are things going with Riddle?"

"Smoothly. He's already taught me a lot."

"What are you researching?" she asked.

"I can't tell you," he smiled. "Not yet, anyway. But as soon as we have more information, I think I might be able to. It is a fascinating subject," he replied.

"So what did you want to talk about? I'm afraid nothing much has changed since the last letter."

"Oh, I just wanted to show you the pond. It's murky, sure. But I think that's what makes it the most beautiful. Did you know that children aren't allowed in this park because of the pond? I guess someone's afraid a child will drink the water and they can't be bothered to clean it up. I'll have to do more research later."

"I guess that's what the fence was for. Luckily I'm witch."

"Luckily I'm a wizard."

For almost fifteen minutes, they sat at that pond, not thinking about anything. They just sat beside each other quietly. That was how they were the most comfortable. The two bonded with silence.

After their "talk", Hermione went back to the castle. She missed her best friend.

There was absolutely nothing she could do to change his fate. She cried herself to sleep for the first time in a long time.

In the beginning of August, the staff decided that "Beatrice" would be a library aid. Ms Pince didn't need the help, but Hermione offered. The woman wasn't a helpful librarian, and Hermione knew her way around. Dumbledore offered that Hermione sit at the High Table with them, but quickly declined.

During the summer, she still called all of her former professors with their titles. They insisted she do otherwise. Mid-August, she could finally get used to calling them by their first names; All except for Dumbledore, no matter how much he asked, she just couldn't.

She heard almost nothing of Severus. They met up at the pond occasionally, but they wouldn't do a lot of talking. Like usual, they sat in quite. Towards mid-August, she rarely received a letter from him; just notes telling her to meet him on this side of the pond or another.

By late August, they weren't speaking at all.

Two days before the start of term, that finally changed.

_Bea,_

_I might have found a way for you to go home. Don't ask why. I'll tell you tomorrow. It will be safer that way. Meet me at the pond at eight in the evening tomorrow. You know which one. Please reply and tell me if that will work. _

_Severus_

Hermione read the short letter with her eyes wide. She only briefly mentioned that she wanted to go home. Had he been working on it all this time? When did he _find _the time? _He must not sleep._

She looked for parchment, but could only find a muggle notebook and pen. _That will have to work, _she thought.

'_Rus_

_I'll be there at eight. I can't wait!_

_B.M.D_

Hermione thought it was a little strange having him write to her but she missed him.

So, that night at eight, she apparated close to the park, and walked to the pond.

Severus Snape stood by the pond, facing the water.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello," he replied. He didn't turn towards her, but he sounded dreamily happy. He reminded her of Luna Lovegood.

"We haven't spoken for a while."

"No, we haven't," he said then continued quietly. "Beatrice, you are a liability. You cloud my mind. It needs to be clear. I need to not think about you."

"Severus?" she asked. "I don't see how I could be clouding your mind. You haven't written to me in so long. I'd figured you had forgotten about me. "

"I suppose you're correct. I was here a few nights ago. I had the urge to step out into the pond. Everything looks so much better from there. Will you join me?" he said, stepping into the water.

"Severus?" she asked again.

"Please. You need to see everything from out here."

"Alright," she said.

Hermione at least rolled up her muggle pants legs and removed her shoes before walking out.

Severus stopped in the middle of the large pond. Hermione waded out beside him. The water came up to her waist.

"I guess things look different from out here, but not exactly beautiful," she whispered. "How do you plan to get me back to my rightful time?"

"Beatrice, before you leave, what is your name?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "I think I could tell you my first name. You'll recognize me when you see me again. Hermione. It's Hermione."

"Hermione," he said. "What a nice name. I will have to remember it."

She opened her mouth to speak.

All of a sudden, Hermione arms and legs snapped together. She fell backwards into the water with her mouth open. Her eyes stung. She felt hands on her body, but her mind couldn't comprehend where.

She could do nothing. Water filled her mouth and rushed into her lungs. Her chest started to hurt and she heard a pounding in her head. She couldn't see much, just the barely-there sunset through the water. All she wanted was air, to sit up, to float, to swim the few feet to the surface. But she could do nothing.

After what felt like minutes, her body stopped hurting. A pleasant feeling took over her. The low light through the water was gorgeous. There were little flecks of rock or sand floating from where she fell. The orange light glinted off of them. They sparkled. She wanted to reach out and grab one. But she could do nothing.

Her eyes gazed at Severus. And all of the pain came rushing back to her. She realised what was happening. But she could do nothing.

She could do nothing.

Everything faded away.


	13. Collisions

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters/situations you recognize. They belong to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I'm making no money off this and never will.

* * *

Voldemort watched from a distance. He made sure the girl couldn't see him. She was a liability, keeping Severus's head fogged.

Sacrifice a girl or sacrifice you best Death Eater even if he didn't know what he was yet? There was no choice.

* * *

McGonagall called a Hermione Granger up to Sort. She thought the girl looked familiar but she couldn't place her.

In Miss Granger's second year, it became apparent to the professor that this was Miss Delaney. Hermione had changed a lot since Minerva had last seen her.

McGonagall cried for the first time in a very long time.

* * *

Remus barely recognised her on the train. He knew not to cross this girl. James had told him and Sirius what had happened.

He thought it was ironic that she was friends with Harry. After all, he had a proclivity for trouble, just like his father.

But of course, Harry was Lily's son, too.

* * *

Sirius had no idea who the girl was when he first saw her. It wasn't until she helped free him that he knew.

Keeping everything a secret… She really was the brightest witch of her age.

* * *

When Hermione slapped Draco Malfoy, Dumbledore knew for sure. He knew about the Time-Turner and allowed her to use it even if she didn't think he knew. He knew she would need the experience. That year however, he let her save someone.

Dumbledore suspected she was Beatrice from the first time he saw her. That night, he dipped his head into the pensive one more time.

"_I'd rather not be hunting Horcruxes for the rest of my life."_

"_Horcruxes?" he asked. "Where did you learn about Horcruxes? It wasn't taught in our curriculum, I assume?"_

"_No sir, I read something outside of school."_

It would have taken him years to figure it out, had it not been for her. It would have taken him so many memories to figure it out. And Hermione let it carelessly slip.

He wrote everything he could down and stuck the notebook in his desk in his office.

Many years later, it would be tossed across the room by one of Hermione's best friends.

* * *

Severus had no idea what he had done. He had no memory. After it was done, he walked out of the pond and straight to his master, standing beside a tree.

Voldemort pulled the memory from his mind, put it in a phial, then for good measure, made sure Snape's memory was wiped from any thoughts concerning that night. Three days later, Voldemort took Snape along with him and showed him the memory. Voldemort wanted to see her die. He didn't get to do it before. And what a great way it was to tell his servant that his best friend had died.

"_Hermione." he said. "What a nice name."_

There was no memorial for Severus to attend. There was no funeral or burial. He did tell anyone what he did for a long time. He wasn't even sure Voldemort told anyone. Not that it would have mattered. He did so many things under Imperius. After a while, he stopped protesting. He did everything Voldemort asked him to do out of fear.

Severus had done his research. Her body was left at the bottom of a murky pond with the skeletons of three children. There's a reason for the fence.

He protected himself. He made himself stronger. For Be- for Hermione and for Lily.

When he overheard the prophecy, he knew Voldemort would want to hear it. If he ever found out from anyone other than Severus, he would be killed.

And then he got his Lily killed. They never would have gone into hiding. They never would've had a Secret Keeper and Pettigrew would have never told Voldemort.

Severus blamed himself for both of their deaths.

At the sorting of 1991, Snape was paying almost no attention. It was just another group of children. One name caught his ear. Hermione. Hermione Granger.

He looked up from his table, pulled his mind away from his thoughts. Hermione Granger. She had the frizzy hair, the already bossy appearance.

After the feast, he talked with Dumbledore. Severus told him what he did to Hermione. He couldn't keep it to himself any longer.

"_You don't do it willingly," she said._ How true that was. He didn't want to see her. He didn't want to know her. He didn't want to teach her. But he had to. He didn't do it willingly.

But he still wrote in the notebook she gave him. It was so big that it had its own table in his rooms. Every letter he ever wrote to her was in written in the notebook. The many he never sent, the ones he wrote every night were written in that leather-bound notebook.

But he still wore his rainbow socks. He always wore them the day after laundry was done. And laundry, for him, was done twice a week.

They seemed to keep appearing on his feet. He didn't wear them willingly.


	14. Rainbow Socks

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters/situations you recognize. They belong to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I'm making no money off this, and never will.

AN: This was un-beta-ed. I wanted to get it up as soon as possible. Thanks for dealing with it. :)

* * *

_Her eyes gazed at Severus. And all of the pain came rushing back to her. She realised what was happening. But she could do nothing._

_She could do nothing._

_Everything faded away._

She felt something below her, though she wasn't sure what it was. It felt like ground, but lighter. Where was she? Why wasn't she dead? Did Severus change his mind?

"No, I didn't. I had no mind to change," said a voice. A familiar voice.

"Open your eyes," it said.

Hermione did that. For a moment, she thought she was blind. Everything was so bright.

"No, you're not blind," it said. "Give it a moment."

Where had she heard that voice?

"You really don't remember me, do you?"

No, she didn't.

"Well, that's fine, I guess. I'm sure in a week I won't be remembered."

Things came into focus. Before her stood a dark figure… a man… with dark hair… greasy hair… dark eyes… pale skin… Severus Snape. He was facing away from her.

"There we go. Took a while, didn't it?"

_Where am I,_ she thought.

"You're dead," Severus said. "I killed you." Despite the subject matter, he sounded calm. Hermione recognised this.

"Yes. I've had a long time to come to terms with that."

Could he read her thoughts?

"Yes, I can. I thought you were intelligent."

I am… was…

"Am and were. Right now, you're only your conciseness and soul. You have no body, but I can see you and you can see me. The two take the form of what we looked like."

"We're dead?" she said. The words sounded strange coming out of her… mouth?

"I already told you that. I killed you."

"Yeah… Why'd you do that?"

He finally turned toward Hermione.

"Voldemort. Imperius. I'm so sorry, Hermione. I was weak."

"You were unprepared. That's not weak. You didn't know."

"And now I understand why you couldn't tell me who you were."

She walked over to him, though she wasn't walking at all – more like floating. She still moved her legs, though she felt no need to.

"You never told me where we are."

"You think I know?"

"Sorry."

Hermione looked in all directions. There was nothing but white. There was ground, but there was no ground. The white was infinite.

"Ah, there you two are," said a voice… sounding strangely like Dumbledore.

"I am Dumbledore, Hermione."

She and Severus both turned around.

"Hermione, I believe Harry told you what happened after Voldemort killed him. What he saw, yes?"

She nodded her head.

"Then you'll remember that I told him that he had a choice. We all have a choice, regardless of whether we're a horcrux. Severus, the same goes for you."

"A choice?" Snape asked. "A choice in what?"

"A choice in whether you live, or die. Here, you are not dead… but you are not living," Dumbledore replied.

"What will happen?" Hermione asked. Severus looks thirty-eight. He has the snake bites. If he chooses to live, he'll just die again. And me? Will I be… in my right time?"

"That's a risk both of you will have to decide if you want to take. Once the decision has been made, it will happen. Choose wisely," he said, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Wait, why are you telling us this? Why couldn't it be someone else? You aren't God, are you? Because then you have some explaining to do."

No answer. Dumbledore disappeared. He didn't walk away. There was no heart-warming speech. He was gone.

"What the bloody hell was that about?" Severus asked.

"Stop that, you sound like Ron."

His eyes widened.

"Sorry," she continued. "What are you going to do? If it makes any difference, we moved you to the Great Hall. You might still be there."

"Nobody would want me back."

"Please, Rus! You're a war hero. You'll be proven as one. Everybody will love you."

"I was still a git."

"Yes and you showed heavy amounts of favouritism. But I'm going to live. I have things that I want to do. People I want to see. It's not like I killed myself. I wasn't ready for death. I should try again."

"But I was ready. I was prepared," he said.

"If I go back, you will have to. I might be back in my rightful time. If I'm not, then you can kill yourself," she said.

"You seem to have this all figured out," he said.

"Very astute observation. Yes. There is no other option for me, Rus. I'm living. And I want you there with me."

She didn't disappear, she didn't leave.

"Why do you think it was Dumbledore?" Severus asked, sounding seventeen again.

"I don't know," Hermione spoke slowly. "He was a source of wisdom for Harry. That transfers over to me. Because he was a father, authority, wise-man figure. I understand for me. Why you?"

Severus didn't answer. Finally, Hermione got tired of waiting. "Severus, I think you have to make up your mind."

He stood/didn't stand there for what seemed hours.

"Fine," he said, and then he was suddenly gone. And so was she.

oooOooo

She heard a sharp intake of breath before she could figure out where she was. Then she saw the ceiling that looked like the morning sky. It was morning. She was in the Great Hall. But when in the Great Hall? She could tell she was sitting. Her mind was so confused.

She heard coughs. And a thick liquid sound in them. SEVERUS!

She shot up and looked around for him. He was right beside her. She didn't notice the eyes that were looking at them.

"Hey, Rus. Don't kill yourself. MADAME POMFREY!"

"I'm right here. Help me levitate him to the Hospital Wing."

Hermione followed Poppy's orders. Once in the Wing, they sat him down on an empty bed – the same one Harry had sat in. Madame Pomfrey rushed to a small cabinet and brought back a phial.

"Drink this," she said to Severus. She poured the liquid into his mouth and he swallowed.

"It's antivenom. It might still work. He gave it to me a few years ago. I wonder if he expected this."

"How long will it take him to heal?"

"A long time, Miss Granger. Stay here, will you? There's nothing more we can do. He'll pass out, and then you can sleep. You look like you need it. Use that bed, right there," she said, pointing to another empty bed beside Severus.

_I guess she isn't bringing the others back here,_ Hermione thought.

She lay down on the bed. The minute her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.

oooOooo

When she awoke, she heard Madame Pomfrey fussing over Severus. He sounded like a teenager again.

"I can do it myself. I'm not that injured."

"Just let me help," Madame Pomfrey replied.

"Just leave me be!"

"Fine. But if you fall, I won't be there to pick you back up," Hermione heard Madame Pomfrey say.

Hermione opened her eyes. Severus was unbuttoning his shirt. He still had open wounds, but they were smaller. He could move, speak, and breath. He was alive.

There was a folded pile of what looked to be pyjamas. Madame Pomfrey must want him to stay a few more days. A few more?

"How long were we asleep?" she asked.

"A day or so. Madame Pomfrey said we had visitors. You go chocolate. I ate it."

"Damn, that sounds good right now."

"Oh, the Gryffindor Princess finally swears."

"Yes. The Gryffindor Princess deserves to swear. You should be honoured I did it in your presence," she joked.

"Sure."

"Let me help you," she said, throwing her feet over the side of the bed.

"You're just as bad as she is," he said.

"Sure," she said, standing. "But I'm going to force you to let me."

Now, most people would consider this awkward and strange. That's what Ron and Harry thought, too, when they saw their best friend undressing their least favourite professor.

"Did we miss something?" Ron asked.

Hermione stopped what she was doing (unbuttoning Severus' pants) and turned to look at Ron. She ran over, threw her arms around him, and then moved on to Harry.

"Merlin, I missed you two!"

"I'd say we missed you two, Hermione," Harry started. "But you weren't really gone that long."

"Well it's been a year for me. Get over it," she said, grabbing the two boys into another hug.

It was then that they heard a loud snore coming from behind them. Hermione turned around to look and found that Severus had fallen asleep. He had managed to take off his pants and pull the pyjama pants over his ankles, but had fallen asleep in the process.

"Why aren't you two surprised that I'm back?" she asked, turning back to them.

"Well, you've been back for a day," Ron said, and then after a moment, continued. "Why are you back?"

"Well, Rus tried to kill me but, like you, Harry, I had the choice. Dumbledore came to us and said –"

"Us?" Harry asked.

"Oh. Rus and me. He was like he is now, and not seventeen."

"Rus?" Ron asked.

"Seve_rus_, yes, Ronald. Now, let me continue."

The two boys nodded their heads, Ron more vigorously than needed.

"Dumbledore came to us in this white… space. He told us we had the choice. I chose to live, and so did he… And here we are."

"Wait, Snape tried to kill you?" Ron said, his face turning red.

"Yes and no. He was under the Imperius. By Voldemort, I suspect."

"So, you two were friends then?" asked Harry.

"Yes. Close friends. As close as you can be to Severus Snape."

For a while, the three friends didn't say a word. Hermione gave the two boys one more hug. When she let go of Ron, he started laughing.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"L- Look." He took a deep breath. "Look at his." Another deep breath. "Socks."

Hermione stayed staring at Ron, but Harry started laughing, too. Hermione spun around once more to look at Severus.

The pyjama pants had fallen from his legs. And on his feet were a pair of holey, tattered and faded rainbow socks.

_Fin_

* * *

**Warning: A Rather Long Author's Note Up Ahead**

I know this fic was kind of short... and not as long as I wanted it to be. But I think I wrapped it up nicely. There's an alternate ending - the one I originally planned for. This one was a last minute decision (literally - I just finished it today). I wanted something a bit brighter and happier. And this, though it was hastily written and not beta-ed (yet) did what I was hoping to do. Besides, this feels like more of a J.K. Rowling way to ends things: on a happy note with everything explained. Were there any loose ends I forgot to tie up? Please, feel free to let me know, and I'll fix it.

Thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed. It really does mean a lot. And also to my best friend, Madison, for giving me some ideas, for letting me bounce some off of her, and for support. Because when I got home after posting it, and found that two people had followed it... I kinda had to tell someone. And what better person than her? Thanks aside, I hope you enjoyed it, even though it was my first fanfic.

~ ErisedWillow


	15. Alternate Ending

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters/situations you recognize. They belong to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I am making no money off this, and never will.

AN: Here is an alternate ending. It's the one I originally planned. But, I decided to write the other one. This one is a bit more sad. But pick whichever ending you prefer. I'm not picky.

* * *

She felt as if she fell through the bottom of the pond. Then her back hit something hard. Her lungs still burned. She couldn't see anything. Maybe she was blind?

She felt herself cough and then something wet and thin land on her already soaked abdomen.

"'Mione!" she heard a familiar voice exclaim. She couldn't pin-point where she had heard it before. It had been a long time since she had heard 'Mione.

"Who? What?" she whispered. It hurt to talk– like it does with a sore throat. Hermione could tell she was still wet, still cold. She thought it was supposed to be warm after death.

"Hermione!" another voice said.

A hand grasped her arm and pulled her to her feet.

Light filled her vision. Her eyes were only closed. Suddenly, she was calm.

"Well, it's nice to see you two here. Am I in the Great Hall? I always wanted to be in the Parthenon. I guess it's too sacred. But what better place than-" she stopped talking, her voice raw and scratchy, mid-sentence.

"Why do you two look so confused? Oh no! You two didn't die, did you? Did the Death Eaters get you? I knew I shouldn't have gone! I should have stayed there and protected you! And now you're dead too!"

"'Mione, we aren't dead," Ron said. "You just left. Three days ago."

"Three days ago?" she whispered.

"Yes, three days," Harry corrected, his voice solemn. "We were about to have the memorial. Let's get you dried off." Harry casted a spell and she was warm again.

"We had to fix up the place a little bit before." Harry continued. "Otherwise we would have had this two days ago. Things were a mess, Hermione."

"We have the-" Ron started, "we have the bodies over there. If you want to see them before the programme."

"Will I have a chance to see them after?" she asked after seeing people file into the room.

"Yes," said Harry. "We have something to show you later too."

_Why don't they sound surprised that I'm back?_

"Let's find us a seat," Ron said.

Once all of the chairs were filled (and people were standing in the aisle), the memorial started. One by one, they went through each of the fallen. Families and friends would walk up to the podium and say something about that particular person. Some would speak about multiple people. It made it all go slower than it needed to.

The whole Weasley family had something to say about Fred. George and Molly were the first to cry, Ron shortly followed. There was no wailing, no screaming, no moans. They just walked back to their seats.

Severus was last.

A man Hermione didn't know walked up to the podium to speak about him. He said things about Severus that didn't make sense. They were generic things. About how, despite his reputation, he was caring and kind, about how he loved to teach.

Somehow Hermione still cared about him, and wished it was her up there speaking. She would have mentioned how he was exceptional at making his own potions recipes, how he loved F. Scott Fitzgerald, or how he would always lose his socks.

But she couldn't move. She felt like she was still dying. Not being able to walk up there when someone asked if they had anything more to say. Harry didn't even move.

She turned her head toward him and his face was in his hands, his elbows on his knees.

After the memorial, Harry and Ron walked Hermione to Dumbledore's office. Hermione slowly regained her feeling.

"You told him about the Horcruxes," Harry said. "He wrote it down. He wrote everything down. Hermione, he said you died."

"I think I did. I don't know. All I remember was being in this pond with Severus and then I fell. I think he did it, but I don't know why."

"It says here that Dumbledore thought he was under the Imperius. He said that he couldn't imagine Snape killing you. But how are you here? You aren't a ghost, obviously."

Hermione's mind, even though she was still in shock, started reeling. Had anyone ever gone that far back? Had anyone ever died that far back? Had anyone ever died during their past at all?

"Maybe that's just the nature of time… dying and then coming back to your original time," she concluded. "He was under the Imperius?"

"Yes, Dumbledore said he was," Harry said.

They didn't talk for the longest time.

"I bet everybody's gone by now. Let's go ahead and go back," Ron finally said.

So the trio, though they felt like one and half people, walked back to the Great Hall. A lot of the people had gone outside but there were a few still inside, talking in corners or just outside the doors. No one was close to the bodies.

There were banners hung to the ceiling, dedicated to each person who had died in the battle. Each one had a picture of the person with a quote, or the best thing they had done underneath it. Severus's just said he was a teacher and a headmaster.

Hermione followed Ron and Harry through the row of caskets. They were all open. You couldn't see their wounds. It was amazing what magic could do.

Ron skipped Fred's. He didn't even look at him.

It took them fifteen minutes to go through the row and to say their good-byes. Before they reached Severus's Harry turned Hermione's way.

"You have to see this," he said, laughing.

Hermione almost cried when she saw her best friend lying there against white silk. But she held it together for their sakes. She had almost a year to mourn these people, they had only three days.

She flinched when Harry touched Severus's pant leg and pulled it up.

Ron laughed. "When we were moving him into this, we saw it. It's hilarious. Who ever thought that Snape would wear something so ghastly?"

And on Severus Snape's feet were holey, tattered, and worn rainbow socks.


End file.
